Roger's Heir
by Fawnfire
Summary: "Not the maniacal daughter you'd expect, is she?"
1. Chapter 1

**Here's my first Tortallan fanfiction, or at least that's what I'm calling it so far. Please read and review, feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated. **

**This is based after the Song of the Lioness, and the Immortals Quartet. You will see lots of the characters from those books. *cough* NUMAIR! *cough***

* * *

It happened in a flash, one moment the night sky was nothing but a swirling mass of dark abyss, the next it was lit by the brilliant glare of a vibrant flare of lightning. The deafening roar of thunder sounded immediately after the lighting.

A frail girl dressed in a smudged tunic and patched breeches found herself trapped by bandits.

The bandits came forth at her at a slow gait, they had her trapped, the mucky walls of the lower city surrounded her on three sides in an alley way. The bandits stood blocking the only way out. They closed in now, going for the kill. One of them lunged, a gleaming dagger in one hand, he snatched hold of the girls arm in the other. The gleaming dagger caught her in the lower left side.

The girl shrieked in fear, and orange flames of magic encircled her, hurling both bandits back. The warmth of the blazing magic died off, and the girl collapsed to the ground.

* * *

George crouched over the shivering form as the storm faded, leaving the night cold and wet. The thief held his tunic pressed against the girls wounded side to stanch the flow of blood. The bodies of the bandits close by, their deaths a puzzling mystery for George. The light aura of vibrant orange light flickered into view around the girl in George's Sight. He sighed and slipped his arms around the girl, lifting her into his arms as he started for the castle.

* * *

King Jonathan stared at George in bewilderment as he slipped into the King's study, he was shirtless and drenched, his tunic wrapped around the still form in his arms.

"George, what's wrong?" Jon asked, confusion clouding his handsome face. George's hazel eyes were dark with an emotion Jon couldn't quite name. The King's eyes drifted to the wounded girl in George's arms, he waved a servant over and hurriedly asked for a healer to be sent to his study immediately.

"What happened?" The King demanded as he helped George settle the girl on a large padded chair. Her dark hair was short and rain soaked, similar to the rest of her, Jon guessed she must be eight years old, at the most. The tunic and breeches she wore were torn and tattered. Blue magic swirled around Jon's fingertips as the orange aura flared to life once more around the girl. He looked up at George.

"She's Roger's daughter…" The King whispered breathlessly.

George nodded, "I thought it best for you to make the decision of what to do with her."

Jon was shaking his head, "I won't take a life so young, not even if it's tainted by the treachery of one's father."

George watched in silence as the King tightened his hand into a fist, the orange aura around the girl flickered and died as Jon drained away her magic. In collected around his hand slowly, leaving the girl with nothing but a small trickle of magic, just enough to keep her alive.

"No one has to know," Jon whispered.

* * *

The sun hung high in the sky, flooding the lively city of Corus with vibrant noon sunshine and warmth. The summer air was thick and humid, every now and then clouds cast shadows over the city, among the bustling cobblestone streets of Corus was a lone rider, mounted upon the back of a long legged stallion, it's bronze coat glittering with sweat. The Rider was dressed in the simple attire of a traveler, worn breeches and a dusty tunic, along with a light cloak with the cowl thrown back onto slim shoulders. The rider nudged their horse easily through the crowded streets with the grace of someone with much riding experience.

Soon the horse slowed, having escaped the slums of Corus and ridden into the more civilized parts of the city they stopped in front of the University of Corus. A tall lanky man, with his dark hair tied back into a neat pony tail and a long black robe wrapped around him carried a stack of books as he made his way up the street towards the palace.

"Numair!" The mage turned abruptly as the rider spurred their horse forward to catch up to him, they kicked their feet free of the stirrups and half leaped for him. Numair grasped his young attacker in a tight hug.

"Kira," Numair gasped as the breath was driven from his lungs by the impact of the slim shouldered girl against his side. He was smiling and hugging her one handedly as he shuffled books in his free hand. Dark auburn hair fell around the girls face in a disorganized fashion, tan skin framed a set of muddled blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose. Kira detached herself from Numair to get a better look at her old friend. She smiled wickedly up at him.

"How's my favorite lazy mage been?" She asked in a light voice as she grinned with her teeth, it was the grin of a cunning wolf.

"Fairly well," He said and gestured for them to continue walking, Kira trotted along side Numair, her grin never fading as her horse plodded along behind her. "and you?"

"Pirate's Swoop was great!" Kira exclaimed excitedly, "I learned a lot from George, and the weather was great, I went swimming almost every day."

Numair smiled, it was something that was hard not to do in the presence of someone as lively as Kira. The girl was lively and overly energetic as she half hopped along up the street beside Numair. Her short auburn hair was as untamable as her spirit, though it was bereft of any knots or tangles it was forever disheveled. Kira was only just sixteen, without a care in the world as she moved from place to place in search of adventure.

"Numair, I had no idea you were going to propose!" Kira exclaimed, holding a small velvet case with a diamond ring in it. Numair checked the pocket of his robe to find the ring was missing.

"Kira, how did you-"

Kira smiled and passed the ring back to him, "I spent a month with _George_, honestly Numair you should be more up to speed than this. So have you asked Daine yet? What did she say? When's the wedding?"

Before Kira could propose another question a boom of thunder cut through the common sounds of the city, the clouds overhead rumbled deeply as they blotted out the sun. A heavy rain drop splashed onto Numair's shoulder, he frowned as he realized they'd have to finish the walk to the castle in the pouring rain, he tucked his books under his robe and watched as raindrops dotted the rapidly clearing path before them.

Commoners scrambled under the shelter of the building and many market stands on the edges of the street. Beside Numair, Kira was mounting Gilly, her trusty steed. She gestured for Numair to do the same, "I don't think you want to get wet," She told him as she held a hand out to him. Numair took it and pulled himself astride the horse. He slipped arm around Kira's waist as she kicked Gilly forward into a gallop.

Gilly tossed his head wildly, enjoying the sudden burst of freedom.

* * *

They rode into the palace stables just as the shrieking wind and pelting rain picked up. Lightning arced across the sky overhead in jagged lines, Kira stared, bewildered at them as she dismounted Gilly lithely. Numair had already done so, and though he was evenly soaked he was glad to find his books were dry beneath his damp robe.

Gilly tossed his head again, his clear sign of enjoyment, Kira patted his neck. "That's m' boy." She told him, grinning from ear to ear. Kira was in no better shape than Numair, and her cloak was sodden as was the rest of her. A stable hand came to fetch Gilly, and Kira bade him a soft farewell before she followed Numair into the warmth of the Castle, she carried saddlebags in one hand and a sheathed sword in the other.

* * *

Kira stood in a dark forest, mist hung heavy in the air, making the shadows shift and swirl in the scarce moonlight overhead. Her usual care free demeanor was shattered as a lone figure stepped forth from the fog shrouded trees. Standing at a little over six feet, the man towered over her. He had brownish black hair and striking blue eyes, a haze of orange light pulsed around him. Duke Roger of Conte smiled and took his only daughter in his arms. Kira hugged him tightly, not wanting to forget the brush of his sorcerer's robe against her skin or the earthy scent of him.

"It's been a long while since I've visited you Kira," he said as they parted.

"I know, I missed you Da."

Roger beamed and Kira's eyes danced with joy. "I've missed you as well. There's something I want to give you, something that rightfully belongs to you." The duke reached a hand forth to clasp hands with Kira, their interlocked hands became laced with orange magic that slid from Roger to Kira.

Kira watched in fascination as the warm magic sparked through her hands, tickling her fingertips as it began to rapidly spread through her. Roger let go of her hands so she could stare in wonder at the bright aura of orange magic that flared to life around her. On her right palm swirled a pale crescent, Kira stared at Roger in confusion.

"Use it wisely," He told her as his shape faded away into the nothingness that closed down on Kira as her dream blended into a calm sleep.

* * *

The sound of a servant pounding on Kira's door woke the girl late the next morning.

"Kira, Kira!"

Kira struggled out of bed, falling onto the floor with blankets and covers trailing after her. The door opened and a perky looking blonde maid stormed in. Her sky blue dress and snow white apron accented her silky blonde curls that hung to her shoulders. Kira offered a smile to Loraine as she staggered to her feet.

"Morning Lory." She said as she replaced the covers on the bed. Loraine glared at her.

"I can't believe this! Here you are, back at the castle, and you don't even bother to get up before noon!"

Kira frowned, "It's past noon?"

Loraine nodded fiercely. Kira leaped up and went for a trunk at the end of her bed, she began tugging out breeches and a clean tunic.

"What's the rush?" Loraine asked, her anger fading slightly from her pretty face.

"I was supposed to meet with the King today, to give him my reports," Kira told her as she stripped off her night shirt and began pulling on clean clothes. Kira had spent the last year and a half as one of the King's royal spies. In her latest expedition she had traveled to the Copper Isles, she'd made detailed maps of the Isles that she planned to give to the King, and returned home to Tortall to spend a few relaxing months at Pirate's Swoop. Now it seemed her vacation was over.

"Kira, Kira, what will you do next?"

Kira tugged on her boots and gathered a small satchel from her saddlebags that held her reports and maps of the Copper Isles, "Apologize to the King, and take a nap."

Loraine rolled her eyes as Kira slipped from the room, the girl was forever tripping over her feet in life. Loraine was convinced that Kira would dig her own grave before she filled it.

* * *

**So this is my first fiction about the Tamora Pierce books, so please let me know if I should continue this or not. Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming please!**

* * *

Kira's feet carried her through the massive arched hall of the palace at a run. A leather satchel was clutched in one hand as she slid around a corner, booted feet slipping on the gleaming oiled floor. She didn't fall, she never did. Y

ears of hard earned practice made sure of that as Kira continued her blistering sprint to the King's study.

The palace guards, dressed in red and gold uniforms and holding swords barred her way. Kira skidded to a stop and forced herself to draw several gasping breaths of dry air before attempting to speak, even after doing so her voice was soft and fragile.

"I need… To see… The King," She managed to choke out as she caught her breath. The guards exchanged a look of distaste, one of them stepped forward and gripped Kira by the arm as to lead her away. They obviously didn't trust the wind battered form asking permission to see the King. Being a spy didn't mean that Kira was exactly very well known, had she arrived on time before the daily change of guard, she might not have found herself in the peculiar situation that faced her.

"Come with me."

Kira felt a vice grip fold around her upper right arm and a line of fire surged through her veins without much warning. Orange flames flared away from her skin, striking out at the Soldiers arms with a vicious hiss.

"Ah!" The Soldier leapt back and drew his sword, his companion following suit.

"Wait, I didn't mean-"

The larger of the two guards, the one who had attempted to restrain Kira, lunged forward sword first. Kira side stepped and felt another roar of fire in her veins. The blood pounded in her ears as the vivid scarlet light lashed out from her hands to knock away the sweeping sword. In a fierce flash of blind rage Kira sent her attackers sprawling onto their backs as ferocious flames of orange magic swarmed around her, repelling their attacks.

For a horrifying moment Kira thought she might not be able to stop herself form killing them. It felt as if a rip-roaring flame had surged to life inside her and the sudden energy that flooded her made her feel invincible. She took one step closer to the nearest guard where he lay crippled on the stone floor. A stream of blue light edged with white swept across her path, the force of it was crushing as Kira was thrown mercilessly against the wall opposite the King.

King Jonathan stood in the archway of his Study, blue magic swirled around his hands. He wore an embroidered blue tunic over soft breeches and calf high boots. His dark hair was hanging over his forehead and his eyes were framed with deep lines, as if he hadn't slept much lately. The look on his handsome face was one of stone. His jaw was locked in what Kira suspected was anger, his eyes held a hint of shock, as well as displeasure.

Kira slid down the wall and slumped against the cold stone in defeat, the fire had died away suddenly, leaving her breathless and stunned. Her side let out a vicious burst of pain as someone knelt over her. A firm hand came to rest on her shoulder as she stared up into the face of the King. A cooling sensation crept into her suddenly exhausted limbs as the world faded to black before her eyes.

* * *

Numair stood at the King's side as they stared at the limp form lying before them. Clean white linen sheets were pulled around the frail looking girl as she slept. The palace infirmary was quiet as healers tended to the sick and the wounded. Duke Baird himself had seen to Kira once the King had brought the unconscious girl to the infirmary. The Chief of Tortall's healers had assured the King that Kira would be fine after a bit of rest, though she would need time to recover her strength. He'd then left the King and Numair to talk alone.

"What are you thinking, Jon?" Numair asked, breaking the long silence that had stretched between them.

"I'm thinking I made a mistake. Maybe I was wrong to let her live."

Numair had heard, or rather felt the raging burst of energy that had erupted in the palace. He could hardly believe the source had been Kira herself. He'd never noticed a magical gift in her before and now the sudden power that blazed around her was puzzling.

"I don't understand," Numair said calmly, he turned to look at his King.

The King was deep in though and his blue eyes were clouded and distant. "Kira is my cousin Roger's daughter."

Numair's eyes widened, "I don't believe it."

Jon smiled ruefully, "At first, neither did I, but there's no mistaking this magic. It's Roger's."

Numair sighed, "You're not going to…"

Jon shook his head, "I don't know. It's not something I'd want to do, but until her intentions are clear I can't say I won't." It was Jon's turn to sigh, he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I took her magic away before. When she was first brought here, I made sure that no one would ever know who she really was, and I drained away everything but the smallest trickle of magic, leaving only just enough to keep her alive."

Numair swallowed, he could sense where this was going. He knew that Kira had rarely thought about having a magical Gift, but he wasn't sure he'd want to steal something so precious away from her.

"I want you to take her Gift away, again. Lock it away so she may never use it again."

"Jon, I don't think-"

Jon turned sharply to glare at Numair, "You don't have to think Numair, you just have to make sure that she'll never have the power to hurt anyone. She almost killed two guards today on accident, I don't want to find out how many people she can do away with on purpose." The King's voice was taut with anger and Numair nodded.

"Yes, Sire." Numair let his gaze drift back to the pale faced form of Kira. She looked thin and weary as she lay motionless. "I'll see what I can do when she's regained her strength."

"Thank you, Numair."

Numair nodded and turned to leave, he stopped in the doorway and turned to toss a glance over his shoulder at his King. "I hope you know you're wrong about her."

The King turned a pain glinted gaze on Numair, he smiled sadly at the mage, "I don't want to be right Numair, I just want my people to be safe, no matter what the cost."

* * *

Kira woke late in the night, just as the moon was rising above the horizon. Duke Baird smiled broadly at her as she sat up stiffly. "Glad to see you're awake."

Kira let out a snort of contempt, "I can't say I share your joy."

The Duke grinned and made his way gracefully to Kira's side to examine her. He'd dealt with a few broken ribs on her left side earlier that day, and he wanted to make sure that they were still straight. Kira complied wearily, thinking over the incident in her mind critically, only when he was done prodding at her side did she turn a horrified gaze on him.

"I-I didn't kill those guards, did I?"

"They're fine, just a little bruised." In truth, both guards had several broken bones and one of them had a mild concussion.

Kira rested her head in her hands in disbelief, "I have no idea what came over me… I didn't mean to, I just, I don't know…"

Baird smiled warmly and rested one hand on Kira's shoulder. "It's not your fault. You were threatened by the guards and you defended yourself as any one would have. You Gift however, played a significant role, or so I'm told."

Kira frowned, "Gift?"

"You didn't know? You have the Gift."

Kira stood abruptly and stared at her hands, then at the Duke. Her eyes held a fierce excitement. "How can you tell? I never knew before! When did this happen?"

Baird raised a hand to stop the slew of questions pouring from Kira's mouth. "The Gift is obvious enough, haven't you ever noticed it before?"

Kira shook her head, "Was I born with it?"

The Duke nodded and Kira returned to her perch on the end of the bed. She looked as if she was ready for flight in the windowless room.

"Why am I just finding out about this now?" Kira asked softly.

The Duke's gaze sparkled with an emotion Kira couldn't name, "That's not for me to answer."

Kira was left with more question than answers as Duke Baird left the room. He indicated clean clothes lying in an oak wood chair by her bedside and told her to eat a filling dinner. As for her health, she could regain her strength in her own quarters as long as she didn't over exert herself again.

Still mulling thoughts over in her mind, Kira pulled on clean breeches and a green tunic. Her belt was slung over the back of the chair and she fastened it around her waist and buckled leather with silver swiftly. Hastily she tugged on her boots and slipped from the room, remembering to close the door softly behind her. A familiar face was waiting for her as she headed for the Riders' mess.

Numair smiled his best fake smile at Kira, with his own Gift he could see the flare of orange fire that smoldered inside her. His heart sank, he was hoping that the King was wrong, and that there would be no need to extinguish any Gift that Kira might have suddenly picked up. After the King had filled Numair in on the whole story of Kira's Gift the mage had got to thinking. It was puzzling to him that after all the years he'd known Kira her dormant Gift would surge to life on one of the simplest occasions. _She's delivered late maps and messages before, why would her Gift spring free of Jon's magic now?_

The mage shoved away the thoughts that clouded his mind and called a friendly greeting to Kira. She returned the warm welcome and slipped to his side, eyes gleaming. "You're not going to believe this…"

Numair raised an eyebrow, "Let me guess, you've got a Gift?"

Kira looked surprised, "How'd you know? Did the Duke tell you?"

Numair shook his head and rolled his eyes, "It's astonishing, I thought you would've at least remembered that I myself am a mage."

"Oh, right!" Kira felt her ears burn hot with embarrassment, "I'm sorry, I'm still a little out of it from the healing."

Numair nodded his understanding and led Kira off to a quick meal in the mess hall. They found Daine there, and the three shared a relatively rushed meal before Kira excused herself.

"I'm exhausted, I'm going to turn in early. I guess I'll see you both tomorrow." In truth, Kira had no intentions of spending the night relaxing calmly in her room. She'd been thinking about the incident critically. Kira made sure that no one was about her chambers, Loraine was off doing her job as a maid and Kira assumed she'd speak to the maid soon enough. Satisfied that she was alone, Kira kicked the rug away from the front of the hearth and sat cross legged on the stone floor.

A steady draft of cool night air tousled her short hair as she sat in silence. The hearth remained unlit as Kira preferred it. Kira concentrated hard, she'd seen other people with the Gift mediate as they summoned there Gift. For a while as Kira concentrated on creating nothing more than a ball of magic, nothing happened.

"Not even a spark," She said reluctantly as she stared at her empty palms. The fire from the morning was gone, leaving Kira oddly hollow inside. She shrugged off her obvious disappointment and sluggishly got ready for bed. Kira fell asleep, thinking of the dream from the night before, _that's impossible, it was just a dream! _

But part of Kira knew that it was much more than that.

* * *

**Please read and review! All comments all valued.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3, not the best of chapters. Enjoy. Please read and review.**

* * *

Kira woke at dawn's first light. She rolled out of bed, feeling oddly energetic after such a short night's rest. Her feet carried her around her vacant room and past the shelves that were cleared, still missing the items that Kira had yet to unpack from her recent departure and return to the city of Corus. She brushed aside the chore, who said she'd be here much longer anyways?

I could manage a ride or two before I get to the housework, she decided as she gazed out the window into the early morning light.

The stables were almost deserted at such an early hour, and Kira slipped into Gilly's stall. The horse tossed his head wildly as Kira held up an apple, he took it from her and lipped her palm affectionately.

"That's m' boy," She whispered softly as she stroked the horse's neck. Kira saddled Gilly without much trouble from the gelding, and it wasn't long before they were sailing down the path to the lower City of Corus, horse and rider enjoying every moment of it.

The streets were crowded and Kira slowed Gilly's pace to walk as they shuffled through the streets. Getting to the lower city had taken longer than Kira had hoped, and now the day was truly started, the bustling citizens were the proof of it.

Aromatic scents drifted along on the gusting wind, bakeries were opening, and fresh bread and pastries made their ways into the hands of consumers. Coins passed from hand to hand as people moped along, children ran along under foot and sweethearts roamed through the streets together.

Beneath it all was the thieves, harder to spot than the regular in habitants of the lower city, but not extinct in any case. Kira saw them, she saw all of them. She always did, and faintly she remembered when she had been one of them. Life had been hard, but not unlivable.

Thieving was a sin, she knew that, but dying a worthless death seemed to be worse. All on her lonesome Kira had made the choice between life and death. She never looked back, but that didn't erase the past, it was still there. It always would be no matter how many times Kira brushed it aside.

Feeling disconsolate about her rambling thoughts Kira headed on through the city, urging Gilly along a wide street packed and crammed with people. She stopped along a merchant's booth, entranced by the glittering necklaces hanging across every visible surface. They were in all shapes, sizes and colors, with exotic threading and eye catching colors.

One in particular caught Kira's eyes from where it hung across the top of the stand. It glittered in the morning glare of sunlight, threaded onto a braid of black twine was a claw like slither of silver. A splotch of color across the middle burned a bright orange. A feather, inky black colored and glossy hung beside the claw.

Mesmerized Kira dismounted to examine it further. The merchant watched her carefully, as though she were still the sneakiest of thieves out for his wares.

"This is beautiful," She said, her eyes leaving the necklace to gaze evenly at the merchant.

"Aye, it is, a special one in fact. With the claw of a wolf and a feather of a raven it's a rare one, indeed." The merchant, a plump bearded man in his late forties seemed proud of his wares, and he raised his chin to show it.

"How much?" Kira asked, though distantly. She couldn't take her eyes off the wonderfully beautiful trinket.

"I'll tell you what, for you, a handful of silver will do."

Kira paled, "I don't have that much." Kira rummaged in her pockets, she had a few copper pieces and two or three silver. Living in the palace didn't make Kira wealthy, when it came down to it she usually only had a little bit of spare change to spend on anything other than what was absolutely necessary.

"I'm sorry miss," but the merchant didn't seem that sympathetic and Kira led Gilly along, away from the stand. She walked straight into him and staggered back in surprise, Gilly stamping his protest.

"Sorry!" Kira said as she looked up. She found herself face to face with a man that stood a full head taller than her. He wore a light cloak with a hood that shaded his features, though his dark eyes stood out among the shadow with an errant blaze.

"Pardon me," his light voice betrayed his youth. He was young, not a day over eighteen by Kira's best guess.

Their eyes met and for a moment they were both still, the next they were moving past each other again as Kira wrenched her gaze away. Even as she walked on she felt his gaze burning into her back.

Kira didn't stay in the city much longer. Instead she made her way back to the palace, taking her sweet time as her thoughts tumbled around in her mind.

"Do you think I really have magic, Gilly?" She said, half to herself.

The horse didn't reply, but continued to trot along the cobblestones with a clatter. Kira tended to Gilly herself before heading back to her room. After a quick wash to rinse away the dust collected from her ride Kira went in search of Numair, a question already brimming in her eyes.

She found the mage in his rooms, working on some experiment that baffled Kira. When Numair asked if she wanted to know how it worked she declined, politely. Kira didn't want a headache, something that Numair was sure to give her if she allowed him to go on and on about his theories and what not.

"I was wondering, you know how I said that I have a Gift now?"

Numair nodded, "Of course."

Kira shrugged, "I have no idea how to use it. I can't even light a candle with it for goodness sake." Kira paused awkwardly for a moment, "I was wondering if you could teach me, maybe just a trick or two with magic because you're so great a mage and everything."

Numair frowned thoughtfully; he knew he'd end up telling her sometime, he only wished that the time had come later rather than sooner.

"Kira, I can't do that."

Kira's shoulders slumped and the laughter in her eyes that was ever present was now vacant, leaving nothing behind but a mixture of sadness and disappointment.

"I'm sorry, I was actually asked to do quite the opposite of teaching you to use your Gift."

Kira looked up startled, "What?"

Numair gestured for Kira to sit, and she complied discontentedly. "The King asked me to make sure that no one else would get hurt from your magic, he wants me to take it away."

Kira paled, "It was an accident, I never-"

"I know you didn't mean to. Magic is like that sometimes, when you least expect it you find that you can use it. My best guess about what happened is that you were in danger, and instinct controlled your Gift to protect yourself." Numair waited for his words to sink in.

"How can you just take someone's Gift away?" Kira asked, she didn't know much about magic, she'd never really felt a need to wonder about it until now.

Numair shrugged one lanky shoulder. He was leaning against his work table so that he could face Kira evenly as he spoke.

"Mages can block it off, disable it almost. But this isn't my own decision, Kira."

Kira was overwhelmed with a wave of anguish, "But why not just teach me to control this? Don't I at least get a chance to try and learn?"

Numair's heart went out to the young girl. He couldn't deny that he would feel the same in her place, being deprived of one's Gift was unthinkable for the mage.

"It's not my choice. I won't defy the King's wishes."

Kira shook her head, "I know, you're not one for treason. How long do I have until you take it away?"

Numair sighed, "To be on the safe side I'd say a few days, you'll need to rest a bit before, and I'll need to prepare a few things as well."

Kira rose to leave, "Thanks, Numair."

"Kira?" He called softly and she stopped and turned back for a moment. There was defiance in her eyes.

"I really am sorry," Numair told her, and she believed him.

Kira smirked wearily, as if knowing that she was going to be cheated out of her own inheritance had taken a lot out of her.

"Me too."

The march back to her rooms was slow going and mournful for Kira, _why me?_ She asked herself silently. She was thinking of her father, he had a Gift as well, but as far as Kira knew her mother hadn't. Kira honestly didn't know all too much about her parents, she was an orphan with little to her name and little to look back on.

Faintly she recalled the dream that she'd had only a few nights ago, _I want to give you something that rightfully belong to you, _her father's words echoed in her head.

_If this isn't worth fighting for, then what is? _

Kira's second attempt to see the King was much more successful than the first, and a tight lipped secretary sent her to wait in a chair outside the King's noble office.

"If you insist on seeing him, you'll have to wait."

Kira shrugged and slouched her way into one of the carved arm chairs of the anteroom. "Alright then, I will." And Kira began a long and diligent wait for a moment to speak with the King.

A long time seemed to pass before the taciturn secretary ushered Kira into the King's office. The King was seated behind his massive oak wood desk, a pen in one hand and a heavy stack of documents in front of him.

"Yes, Marty?" He said without looking up from his work.

"There's someone here who wishes to have a brief word with you, your Majesty." Marty bowed, shot Kira a look of disgust and took his leave.

Now the King was looking up, and he put his pen down. "Good to see you Kira," He said with false cheeriness. "How are you feeling?"

"Rather deceived your Majesty, if you don't mind me saying," Kira told him in a scarcely audible voice.

Jon frowned, "Is there something I can do for you then, Kira?"

Kira shrugged, _there's a lot you can do for me, but that doesn't mean you'll do it! _

"I can't say yet, your Majesty. I was wondering if it would not be beyond my boundaries to ask you something."

Jon ran a hand through his dark hair, "Of course not, have a seat and take you're best shot." He gestured to one of the chairs that were lined up in front of his desk. Nervously, Kira perched on the edge of one of the chairs, looking like a bird ready for flight.

"Majesty, I'd like to ask you permission to keep my Gift." It took a bit of encouragement, but Kira finally got it out.

Jon scowled, "How'd you find out about that?"

Kira ducked her head and shrugged, "I-I spoke with Numair, Majesty. If you're going to be mad, you should be mad at me, he only told me the truth."

Jon sat back in his chair, clearly thinking, after several moments of troubled thought he shook his head.

"You have to understand Kira, this is for your own good.

Kira felt a surge of anger fill her, and she closed her hands into fists. "Taking away all I have left is good for me?" Kira saw the flickering emotions on the King's face, one of confusion, one of misunderstanding. "What do I have left?" She asked, "I've lost everything. I've lost both my mother and my father, and I don't even have a snippet of a memory to cling to." Kira's eyes were hard as stone. "I have no one left."

"That isn't true, Kira." Jon told her, his voice oddly calm. "You do have kin that still lives, and they do care about me."

"And how would you know anything about that?" Kira snapped angrily.

Jon sighed deeply, "I haven't been completely honest with you. I know very well just who your father is."

The vicious retort Kira had been about to voice died in her throat. Had she heard him right? "Who?" Her voice came out thin and whispery.

"He was my cousin, and he used to be a great man," Jon told her, but his eyes betrayed him. Like sapphires they glittered with bitter memories. "He was Duke Roger of Conte."

Kira found she couldn't move. Her limbs were frozen with a sudden suffocating wave of shock. "That's preposterous; Roger was a menace and a killer. My father wasn't."

Jon's eyes were simplistic now, "It's hard to believe, I know, I didn't believe it myself for a while. But you're magic is the same as his, and you've got his charm."

Kira was shaking her head, "That's a lie, I don't believe you," her words were short and clipped.

"And how could you," Jon said in the merest of whispers, he reached for something in a drawer on his desk, and he dropped a ring in front of Kira.

She craned forward to stare at it, one hand moved to the chain at her neck that held the last token she had of either of her parents. Kira tugged on a silver chain and dragged it from her shirt, a gold ring was looped onto the chain.

Both rings were identical, to Kira's clear horror. The ring around her neck had belonged to her deceased father, and the band of gold had been a sorcerer's token, one meant to hold onto magic, same as the one in front of her.

"This ring belonged to Roger," Jon said, showing Kira the engraving of the first ring. Carved into the metalwork were the initials of Kira's father, written in the same swirly script that was imprinted on her own ring.

There was no mistaking it, the King wasn't lying. He simply couldn't be. Kira's ring that hung form her neck was one she'd hand for as long as she could remember, she couldn't even think of a handful of people who knew she had it. Making a duplicate would be damn near impossible, and knowing Kira's connection the ring was unlikely.

Now Kira looked up at the King, _we might be bound by blood, but this'll never be right!_ She thought fiercely.

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**Please read and review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4! Sorry it took me so long!**

**Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming please!**

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The King dismissed Kira, making her swallow the words that she still wished to say. He wouldn't have it though, and Kira was sent away with words still flitting through her mind.

Three days was all she had left with her newfound magic. Three days and once more she would be insignificant. She wasted away the rest of the day by herself, trying to take in the fact that she was the King's niece. Even when she settled down to sleep that night it was unfathomable.

Sorrow echoed through her dreams that night as flickering and fading images of her father. He was speaking to her in a anguished tone, but what he said was unknown to her. His words were muffled as she ran through darkness. Then she could hear it, a whisper in her mind.

_He's taking it away from you. He's taking me away from you…_

_

* * *

_

When Kira woke she found tears sliding down her face, somehow she didn't think she could bare to lose the father she'd never known.

Despairing still plagued Kira as she headed for the city again. She just needed an escape, a way to banish the thoughts that gnawed at her consciousness away into darkness. When Kira reached the city and began the usual shuffle through the streets she veered down a side alley and urged Gilly into a trot across the slim slick cobbles.

The ground cracked and diminished into a glade of grass beneath Gilly's hooves. Kira found herself in an overgrown garden on the verge of the city. She dismounted and surveyed her surroundings. The long leafy fronds of grass were pale green and reedy. They reached to Kira's booted shins and made a soft crushing noise underfoot. Across the glade and towards the edge of it was a stream. A narrow little babble of relatively clean water that babbled away sluggishly.

A rather large and thick willow tree stood alongside the stream, standing hunched and gnarled in it's ancient age. The leaves of the tree, streamers of lichen green, hung down around the tree and created a cool and mossy shade around the tree's twisted trunk.

Kira crossed through the grass and let Gilly drink from the stream, the horse plunged most of his muzzle into the water in a very unhorse like way, sloshing cold water this way and that. Kira smiled sadly and stroked the horses neck before settling down on the soft grass, she knocked loose stones into the stream, splashing water across the banks.

"Well, you seem cheery."

Kira leapt to her feet and spun to the voice behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. A stocky figure slipped down from the willow tree, dressed in a flowing cloak of a rather tattered material. Kira recognized the stranger as the man she'd seen in the marketplace the day before. Only this time the cowl of his ragged cloak was tossed back onto his shoulders, allowing Kira a better view of his face.

His face wasn't as simple as Kira remembered. It had more rugged detail to it now, the line of his jaw was strong and bristled lightly. His nose was crooked and his face bore signs of scars that were new and faded alike. His eyes were still dark and unreadable, but the comical twitch of his lips signified that he was amused.

"What's wrong, never seen a thief before?"

Kira raised her eyebrows at him crookedly, "What's wrong, haven't got any manners?"

His chin lifted to a proud point, and he lazed towards her, furthering the offense of his rude intrusion. In defense Kira felt for the dagger along her right wrist and made sure it was within easy reach. Beside her Gilly watched the thief with interest.

"I do believe you're the one at fault, miss. I was lounging in the willow long before you were tramping in the stream."

Kira rose to her feet, "I was not tramping!"

He tilted his head to the side, "Says the girl with mud on her boots."

Kira looked down in dismay at the mud dipped soles of her leather boots. It would take a mighty deal of scraping before they were clean again. Before she could snap a retort at him he was settling down on the grass beside the stream. He looked up at her, a question in her eyes.

"Well, I'm willing to share this haven if you are."

Kira eyed him critically, something that he didn't seem to mind her doing. Her first instinct was to leave, to never speak to the egotistical thief that seemed to think he ruled this place. And yet something inexplicable about him compelled her to stay.

He seemed steady enough, and there was no trace of lecherous intent in his dark eyes. Besides, Kira had nowhere else to go to. What could staying possibly do to her? Cautiously she sat cross legged on the grass, several feet away from him. He eyed her coolly.

"I'm Ken," he murmured, and his voice was politely discreet. "I don't think I caught your name yesterday."

_So he remembers that_, Kira thought. _Is he following me? _"It's Kira, and if you make one move towards me you creepy stalker, I'll make you sorry to be a man."

He only chuckled, "How fiery."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kira snapped at him irritably.

Ken stretched himself out, crossing his legs at the ankle and pillowing his arms under his head. He turned his head ever so slightly to look at her, a sly smile tugging at his lips. His eyes sparkled with some hidden secret.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, sounding a lot like a gossiping old grandmother.

Kira watched him, curiosity creeping up in her. She shoved it away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her interest. Ken began to snap his fingers, and Kira averted her eyes, finding something suddenly better to look at other than him.

A brilliant flash of green to her left caught her attention and she turned abruptly to him. She started in shock at the vivid green vines of light that laved their way around his fingers, illuminating his hand in artful brilliance. Little fibers of the entrancing light drifted away from his hand and faded into nothing, like little dots of dust in the air. He closed his hand and then there was nothing.

Kira suppressed the urge to rise to her feet, "How did… But you… How?"

Ken's eyebrows rose in question, "What? Don't tell me you haven't seen magic before either?" He took on a pained expression that was just a little too innocent.

Kira just shook her head, "No I have, it's just…"

He frowned at her, "It's just what? Spit it out will you?"

"A Gift has to be taught to someone…"

Ken sat up, an antagonized look on his face, "And what? You think that because I'm a thief it's odd that I know how to use magic?"

"No! It's not that, I swear it isn't," Kira said desperately as she half rose to stop him from stalking off. "I just can't believe the chance of this! I've been looking for someone who would teach me magic, but…" Kira stopped, and that little flame of hope that had been borne in her sputtered and died.

"But what?" Ken looked intrigued, "Don't stop, really, go on."

Kira sank back onto the grass and starting tearing at it with her hands. She heard him sit back down beside her, this time he wriggled a little closer to her.

"Please?" He asked, and Kira turned to look at him, falling right into the trap. His eyes were deep with warmth an a consoling touch, and Kira felt as if she was forced to speak.

"I'm not allowed to have my Gift," Kira began softly, she could almost feel the intense look that Ken inflicted on her.

"What do you mean? Who can stop you from using your Gift?" His voice was soft and kind, just barely heard over the rustling of water over rocks.

Kira sighed, "The King, he thinks that I'm out of control so he's having a mage take it away, or something of the like." And then Kira babbled it all out to him, this strange in the glade. She told him about her father and her relation to the King, she told him about the oddness of her Gift, and how she was denied the Gift she was born with. All through it Ken listened quietly, and it startled Kira how easy it was to tell him everything, this stranger she hardly knew.

When Kira finally finished she realized that she was crying, tears spilling down her face. It had to have been the first time in a very long time that Kira had truly let her feelings show in such and outrageous display. Ken on the other hand, didn't seem to mind. He shifted a little closer and cradled her against one shoulder and gently pushed a handkerchief into one of her hands.

Whether he did this out of courtesy or sympathy didn't matter to Kira, she only let him wrap her in his arms until the downpour stopped.

"I can't decide who's more pathetic."

His voice was a gentle vibration she could feel through him, and the biting tone startled her.

"The King for what he's taking from you, or you for letting him."

Kira pushed away from him, half expecting him to hold her there, but he let her go easily. She faced him with the liens of tears still marring her face. His eyes were unreadable but his composer was grim.

"How can you say that?"

Ken stood, "I can say it because we have something in common. My father was something like yours, he was something that I'm not, someone I'll never be. My father was a good man, he was part of the City Guard and he helped a lot of good people by putting people like me in cells to rot." Ken's eyes smoldered their hate, "And everyone always thought I was going to be just like him, and I'm not."

"My father was nothing like yours," Kira argued mulishly.

Ken sighed in frustration, "Yes he was! My dad was nothing like me in what he did, and I'm sure you're nothing like your dad in what you do. I have no idea why you're letting the King assume so."

Kira swiped a sleeve over her face to wipe away the last traces of her tears. She was beginning to understand, but what difference did Ken's words it make? "That doesn't change things, I still don't have much of a say in this matter. The King doesn't believe that I can control my Gift."

Ken sighed and his anger cooled to something less afflicting. "I can teach you control and I can teach you, well, a lot of things. But most importantly control."

Kira rose to her feet in shock, "You would do that?"

Ken shrugged, "I would if you'd do something for me."

The little flame of hope reignited itself inside Kira. "What? What would I have to do?"

Ken's eyes deepened a shade, "For one, you'd have to swear not to tell anyone back at Camp Royal about me helping you, I don't have such a wonderful reputation with the Royal Guard or the Lord Provost."

"What else?" Kira asked eagerly. Secrecy didn't seem like all he was asking for, she could see it in his eyes. There was something more hidden there. He mulled things over in his mind for a moment more, and Kira couldn't help but wonder what he'd ask for.

Ken leveled his gaze with hers, "I'll teach you all I know about control over your magical Gift granted that from now on whenever you're in the city you're working for me."

Kira could already guess what Ken did for a living, she'd seen him yesterday in the city streets busy at it. A thief. It echoed through Kira's mind. He wanted her to steal for him. He wanted her to revert back to the life she hated, the one she'd left behind. But he'd teach her control. That's all she needed, she could convince King Jon if she showed him she could control it.

"I'll do it."

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**Please read and review!**

******And remember, Ken is a thief, so Kira's work will probably be something along those lines. Imagine how this decision would weigh in her mind...**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm sorry it took me so long to update, I've been getting over a bad case of Writer's Block, and I think it's finally going away. Count on me to update regularly now. =) **

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Kira had doubts about working for Ken, but she thought she might as well give him a chance. As it turned out, what he considered working for him was nothing all that bad or all hard at all.

Ken was a thief and a close friend of the current Rogue himself, but what he did wasn't as horrific as Kira had expected it to be. Ken worked mainly on keeping tabs on people, and another set of eyes around the city-an unknown and new set-would prove useful to him. That's all he would tell Kira, to learn the rest she'd have to meet him the next day at the willow by the stream.

At first Kira didn't have a doubt about going, and she rode back to the castle with all the intentions of rising early to meet the thief the next day. By the noon meal she was sick with doubt. Maybe not having a Gift really was better for her, like Jon thought. Not to mention she wasn't exactly keen to go back to being a thief, in any shape way or form. No matter how miniscule that Ken swore the thievery would be, Kira still had a dreadful feeling about the next day.

Thoughts a tumble, Kira went about her day. She started the horrid process of unpacking in her room. The small little chambers she'd been given in the Guest Wing of the castle was nothing impressive. It was a relatively stuffy little set of chambers, crammed full of red and gold tapestries and rugs that showed off the royal colors. Even the bed was dressed in the gaudy colors and covered in plush pillows. Kira hated every detail of her room, and she set about creating something a bit less suffocating, if only to take her mind off her dilemma.

The first thing she did was drag down all the tapestries that covered the grey stone walls. She rolled them up and left them in the small dressing room that Kira had no doubt she would never use. She would manage with a small screen in another part of her bedchamber as she always had.

The rugs quickly followed the tapestries into their exile, and then Kira set to stripping the bed of the tacky covers and getting rid of those as well. When she was done she was left with nothing more than grey stone walls, a hearth, a wooden chest and a sheet less bed.

Finally Kira unpacked her saddlebags completely. The only things she'd taken from them so far were the clothes she'd worn, and she was beginning to miss the sight of the few sentimental things she had. Kira started with the rest of her clothes, dumping them out on her bed to sort through. She refolded them and tucked them neatly into a small chest at the end of her bed, glad to have made at least some sort of progress in assembling her room the way she liked it. Still, a lot would need to be done to give it the homely touch that Kira craved. Of course, having never truly had a home, it was something quite difficult to achieve. Kira traveled a lot, always hoping and searching for a place that felt like home. So far nothing felt as right as the palace, and even then the stone walls had never really been welcoming.

Sighing, Kira reached for her satchel, which held both messages and maps, but most importantly it held the few things that Kira had left of her parent's. Besides the ring she wore around her neck she also had a dagger from her Dad, one with a silvery white blade and rune carved hilt. From her mother their was one comb, an elegant little trinket that Kira had yet to wear even once. The beautiful comb was simple, but elegant, artfully crafted and painted a glossy red and adorned with an extravagant orange blossom that had speckled petals. Kira unwrapped the comb from it's red sash, running her hand over the artifact gently. She always imagined her mother as a blindingly beautiful woman, and the comb helped Kira create that fanciful image.

The dagger was something quite different. She had always pictured it belonging to a war hero, a man who had heroically given his life in battle. Now, seeing as though her father was Roger of Conte, the image was shattered.

Kira held the little weapon close, running her hands over the runes. She just wanted to hold onto the image of a heroic father for a little longer.

* * *

That night long after Kira had finished her decorations she lay in bed, staring up at the plain ceiling for what seemed to be a little slice of eternity. Thoughts of the morning ahead kept her wide awake and pondering. She couldn't help but think that showing up tomorrow morning at the willow where Ken and her had agreed to meet would be a possible disaster. Kira still wanted to learn how to control her Gift, but at what cost would she learn how?

_What if he asks me to rob someone? _

Kira highly doubted she'd be able to do anything but refuse. But what if Ken counted on her refusal? What if he had a way to make her agree to it?

Sighing, Kira pushed the thoughts away. Of all the things she'd ever done in her life, the creeping and spying, she'd promised herself she'd never go back to stealing. It seemed that she might just break that promise to herself to keep her newfound Gift.

* * *

Sometime in the night Kira had drifted off to sleep, and when she finally woke watery morning light streamed dully through the window. It was still early for her to be up, but Kira couldn't sleep, and so she rose anyways. She readied sluggishly, trying to kill as much time as possible. In the end it was no use, and Kira soon found herself saddling Gilly for the ride into the city.

Kira was early, but it didn't displease her to sit by the willow tree again with Gilly. It was calming, and the twisted pit of nerves that had become her stomach eventually eased. At the sound of footsteps close by Kira became instantly nervous again. She turned to find Ken heading towards her from an alleyway. He had a bundle tucked into the crook of one arm and a pastry in one hand.

"And here I thought the Royal wouldn't show," he smiled at her and took a seat beside her, offering her a sweet from the cloth wrapped bundle. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm not very pleasant with an empty stomach. Go on, eat one. They aren't poison. Or stolen."

Kira was about to decline, but the scent of the cinnamon drizzled rolls convinced her otherwise. Still, she was hesitant. Kira opened her mouth to say something, then sighed.

Ken frowned, "What?"

"I'm just not sure about this anymore. I don't think I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to this," Kira told him quietly. She half expected a rebuke from him, but his tone only softened when he spoke.

"I know I didn't really get to tell you much yesterday, but I'm gonna be fair about this. I thought that today I'll just show you the ropes of the Rogue and the kind of thing that we need help with. If you don't like it then you don't have to help out, that's fine. I just want you to know what's expected out of the bargain."

Kira's gaze searched his, "Really?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I promise. And it won't be stealing or anything drastic like that. Believe me, we have plenty of rogues doing that, we need help with the more technical stuff."

"Like?"

"Like keeping track of who's stealing from who, and what. The Rogue isn't… Well… It isn't what it used to be, but you'll see what I mean when I show you around later. Right now you should eat something, we'll be doing a whole lot of walking."

This time when Ken offered her a sweet bun Kira smiled and took it, thinking that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"So I'm actually gong to meet people in the Rogue?" Kira asked as she followed Ken through the bustling streets of the Lower City.

"If you agree to this, you probably will. But don't worry, none of them bite. Often."

Kira looked alarmed, and it took her a moment to realize that the twitch of a grin on his face meant that he was joking.

"Oh, for a second there I thought you were serious."

Ken only grinned wider, "You'd be surprised by just how many people assume the same thing."

Kira was still trying to decipher just what he meant when they passed by the stand that she'd seen yesterday, and again she found her eyes wandering to the silver feather necklace. It was still there, so close but so far out of reach. She didn't notice it, but Ken caught the longing look that clouded her face.

"See something pretty?"

"Huh?" Kira turned back to him, a bit startled that he'd caught her daydreaming. "Oh, um, well sort of." Kira ducked her head in embarrassment, "it's beautiful I think, and it kind of reminds me of my mother, but I'd never be able to afford it."

Ken looked a bit surprised, "I would've thought that someone who lived up at the Castle would have a rich set of parent's just dying to buy their kid all kind of stuff."

Again, Kira couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Ken's words. He was right of course, and a lot of the other Nobles that lived in the Castle had the kind of money to buy rich things and never think twice about it. Kira hadn't inherited much from either one of her parent's though, and often times she felt the full effect of it when she had to count out coppers to buy stale bread.

"Both of my parent's passed away when I was little. I don't remember either of them very well, and I didn't inherit much from them."

Kira couldn't see the expression on Ken's face, since her gaze had very quickly found her feet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Kira shrugged, "Don't worry about it," she told him, "it's not big deal. I kind of get that a lot."

"So what do you do for money then? I don't think I've ever known a Noble who did much work outside of the Castle."

Kira smiled lightly, he must have assumed that Kira spent a lot of time in the Lower City because she worked there.

"I do work at the Castle, or rather for it really. I travel here and there, collect maps and make new ones, that sort of thing. I just got back from a trip to the Copper Isle's not long ago, and I may stay another week or two more here before work calls me away again."

Ken sighed, "I can't imagine being away from the City for longer than a few days." When he spoke his eyes roamed the crowd and the streets, filling with warm memories of all the good times he'd had in him hometown.

"You like it here then?"

He nodded, "I love it here. It's were I was born and raised, and it's probably where I'll end up living for the rest of my life to raise my own kids. It's just something about this place. It just feels like home."

_If only I had a home, _she thought longingly. The walk through the Lower City had brought Kira to see that there was a lot more that she wanted in her life. Perhaps if she had a family of her own and a place to call home she'd be happier.

"Come on, we should go this way," Ken told her as he nodded towards another alleyway. "We'll skip a long walk around to The Dancing Dove if we cut through, and the stable is close to the back anyways."

Leading Gilly after her, Kira followed Ken into the rather wide alleyway, carefully taking in her surroundings. She'd always been attentive to detail, and the slime coated cobbles underfoot and moldy stone walls around her were dreadful, but definitely memorable.

"You keeping up?" Ken called over one shoulder, looking back to see if Kira was still following. She caught up quickly, following him around one corner past another alley way that branched off and formed a dead end. The other way led around to a small stable that stood alongside a large building. Ken led the way into the stable, calling for a stable hand to take Gilly.

As Kira handed the reins to the young stable hand she glanced back over her shoulder once more. Something was oddly familiar about the dead ended alleyway. She was sure of it, and yet she couldn't quite place when she'd ever been there before. Kira made a note to try and figure it out. She didn't like secrets, and the alleyway was certainly hiding something.

Of course, if Kira had known what had happened in the alleyway so many long years go, she may never have followed Ken into the Dancing Dove.

**

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Comments, hints, suggestions and compliments are all welcomed and valued. So click the Review link below. =)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6. It's kind of short, but there should be another chapter following soon after this one. we have two weeks off for Christmas break. =) Please read and review, and favorite and alert. It's greatly appreciated. =)**

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There was no easy way for Kira to describe the Dancing Dove. It was a place of thieves and rogues, a nest for the lawless ones of the city and all their bad habits. Despite it all, Kira felt oddly at home in the tavern. It wasn't even noon, but patrons filled the tables, mugs of ale laid out before them. With dim lighting and a veil of smoke wafting about the taproom the tavern appeared as any other would.

"Don't let the lack of empty tables fool you, this place doesn't get busy until night falls," Ken told Kira as he led the way. He called greetings to those seated at the tables, having a lighthearted way of trading words. Even the Innkeeper looked almost glad to see him, and more than one waitress put a hand on his shoulder in passing.

"I didn't exactly think you were that well known here," Kira murmured.

Ken shrugged, "Don't be surprised, I've been around a while now."

The Innkeeper smiled as Ken leaned on the bar. "Others have come and gone over the years, and yet here Ken has always been. Now what can I get for you miss?"

Ken was already speaking before Kira had even thought of what to say. The words dripped from his lips like honey from the comb, and Kira guessed he was more than adept at this sort of bantering. "She's a friend, and as friends tend to do for one another, we're helping each other out. Speaking of such, you don't suppose you could give me a hint as to where Heath would be?"

The Innkeeper didn't lose a single moment as he filled two glasses with ale. "Well well now, is old Marth suddenly a friend to you?"

Ken shrugged, "I don't know, he could be."

Marth snorted in derision, "What's in this for me?"

Ken rubbed his chin, appearing to think hard on what he could possibly give in exchange for a little information. "Heath's whereabouts in trade for a little secret."

Marth set the two mugs on the counter, sliding one to Ken and one to Kira. Kira stared at the drink but didn't so much as touch the glass. Ken scooped his up in one hand and leaned a bit closer to Marth.

"Someone is out to get Heath, and I do believe I know who it is," Ken told Marth, a wicked look in his eyes. The Innkeeper drummed his fingers on the counter.

"It's this you're going to warn him about then?"

Ken grinned, a predatory show of white teeth. "Why don't we just agree with that?"

Marth's eyebrows rose, and he gave Ken a long and steady look of consideration before he spoke again. "This are difficult days now, boy. Not many people are having much faith in the Rogue, not with him looking so sickly of late. But Heath is family, you remember that. He damn near raised you."

Ken looked almost pained, "Don't remind me. Now are you going to tell me where my would be father is or not?"

Marth sighed and wiped his hands on his apron, "I do believe he went out last night to attend to his usual late night business. He hasn't yet come back."

Ken drained the mug of ale in one gulp and smiled at Marth. "My thanks to you for that and the drinks. I'll be back later." Ken turned to move away from the bar, but frowned when he noticed that Kira hadn't so much as touched the ale.

"Are you going to drink that?"

"No," Kira told him, shaking her head.

He shrugged, as if letting the ale go to waste was such a crime that he couldn't quite bare it. "Well then, I guess I have no choice." Ken scooped up the mug and headed for the door, taking a gulp of the drink as he went. Kira followed quickly after him, wondering idly if her mentor would still be sober by noon.

* * *

Ken was blunt about where they were going, and he led Kira along through the back allies, drinking all the while.

"You're going to meet the man you should both revere and fear. And probably laugh at quite a bit. Heath has his moments… Unfortunately."

Kira's thoughts tumbled swiftly over his words and his exchange with Marth. "You're going to kill him?

Ken stopped and turned to look Kira full in the face, his eyes were filled with something close to surprise. "What?"

For a moment Kira thought that he might be angry, but her gaze never shied away from his. "You were hinting about someone being after Heath. Is it you? Is this what you need me for? Murder?" Kira felt the first cold tendrils of outrage creeping up on her. She wouldn't do it.

Ken's mouth thinned into one straight and hard line, his voice was soft and firm when he spoke. "I would never kill Heath. Ever. I've known him far too long to put any desire for his place in this city above the kinship he and I share. But that doesn't mean that there are people out there who don't think otherwise. I can name a handful of scoundrels off the top of my head who would stick a knife in Heath's back without so much as a second thought."

Kira fell silent, the defiance in her ebbing. "Then what was all that about back there? You were dancing around the meaning of your words."

He frowned, a thoughtful little twist of his lips, "You mean I was lying?"

"You were hiding something," Kira told him.

"You're sharp, for all you're a noble," he retorted, his gaze showing his interest. "I suppose you want to know what it is?"

The defiance had returned as quickly as it had gone, and Kira crossed her arms over her chest. "It involves me, does it not?"

Ken sighed, "It does. Do not repeat this, for it's not something well known around here. Many people believe the same that you do. They believe that like most crooked men that I am greedy. Many believe I want the Rogue's throne to myself." Ken's voice had dropped low, and Kira had to listen intently to catch the words he murmured in just the barest of a whisper. "They don't know the truth of it, that I don't desire what I don't deserve."

Once more Ken's words dropped off into silence, and his eyes searched Kira's. It seemed as if he was looking for something in the depths of her gaze, trying to decide whether she was a worthy candidate or not. "You, unlike others, will know the truth of it. I am not Heath's enemy, but his guardian."

Kira frowned, "You're his… protector?" Kira had spent many days at Pirate's Swoop, learning all she could from George. She knew very well what he did for a living, and often times he acted as a mentor to the young spy. A lot of the experience that George had gained over the years had come from his days among the Rogue, and while he could no longer live the life of a thief as he once had, he still knew the ways of the lower city quite well. There had always been people he could trust when he needed aid, but from the way he spoke of his place among the Rogue, he was never specially protected by any others. Such a thing was demeaning to the King of Thieves, to have a guard always at his back.

"I am when I came be," Ken told her. "But that of course is something only a rare few people know."

"And why have you told me?"

Ken differed for a moment, his dark eyes shifting between various emotions. Fear? Worry? Many more passed before he seemed to be confident enough to speak. "It's just… Something about you. You have a look to you, that makes me believe that you can take a secret and place it with all the rest you hold close to you. And like the rest, you'll never tell."

"How can you be so sure?"

Ken's cloak wriggled on his shoulder when he shrugged. "I can't. But I also know for fact that you know what happens when you betray someone's secret. That much I can see in the very way you speak. You're cautious not of what you shouldn't say, but of what you should say. No one will ever know you're hiding something if you have a perfectly normal answer close at hand."

Kira didn't know what to say to that. He was in a way right about his dissection of her ways, most of which had been taught to her by George. "You're sharp, for a thief," she decided after a moment of silence.

Ken smiled, but it never quite reached his cold eyes, "In my line of work being dull is not permitted if you value your life. It's best you remember that, Kira."

* * *

**So that's it. Dreadfully short. I know. =\ Please read and review, favorite and alert. I appreciate it all. =)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7! Took me forever, I know. School's almost out... Hopefully I'll be updating regularly by then, in case anyone's reading. **

* * *

It was not a brothel. At least, from the outside it didn't look to be one. The clean looking little building was tucked between two similar sized constructions, one looking to be a Blacksmith, the other some sort of a tailoring shop. Though the road was only dirt it wasn't muddy, but harder packed and firm to walk on. The shops and little holdings were sturdy enough, though a few looked cleanlier than others.

Ken led Kira inside to a well aired room lit with tall white candles placed on every table. The place seemed much like an inn, only a little more homely with clean table cloths spread over the sturdy tables. What stood out most to Kira was not the rather petite layout of the room, but the many women that gave life to it. They laughed and chattered amongst themselves and to the few men who were with them.

A willowy blond woman smiled broadly at Ken from behind a high counter and moved to greet him with a hug.

"Ah, Kendel, what can I and my ladies do for you today?"

The woman was beautiful, to say the least. Her long blond hair was braided elaborately down her back to touch her slim waist. She was wrapped in a long red dress that set sparks in her eyes and brought out the color on her lips. Kira couldn't help but notice that the woman held Ken's hands in her own after they'd ended their embrace.

"We don't mean any trouble, Adele," Ken said kindly, his voice silk, "we're just looking for a friend."

The woman's eyebrows, artful in their shape rose in understanding. "Of course." Adele gestured towards the stairs, "You know where to find him." The smile never left her face as Ken took back his hands and promised he wouldn't be long.

It was only then that Adele chanced a glance at Kira. The resplendent smile did not falter, but it failed to reach her cold gaze. Kira followed after Ken, feeling oddly harassed.

The thief showed no intention of waiting for her, and Kira had to trot up the steps to keep up with him. She followed her guide into a long hall with rooms on both sides. The doors were closed and unnumbered, but Ken knew where it was he was going. His stride was level and confident, and he stopped at a door towards the end of the hall to knock.

Leaning on the door frame, Ken knocked, two hard raps with his knuckles. The only reply was a giggle from inside the room, muffled by the door. Without warning Ken pushed himself upright and opened the door, barging in on a preoccupied couple. Kira, who was just as appalled as the couple, chose to wait outside the room, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"Morning Heath." Kira could hear Ken as he greeted someone in a falsely cheery tone. "Ah, so this is where you were when I was waiting for you last night."

Edging closer to the door, Kira strained to hear the reply. Someone coughed a laugh and a woman murmured something that Kira couldn't make out.

"Sorry Ken, but her offer was a lot more enticing than yours," someone drawled.

Kira could hear shuffling as someone moved about the room, and denied herself the impulse to peek around the corner. Sometimes Kira couldn't help but feel inclined to spy.

"Now ask yourself Heath, was it truly worth having to be dragged out of bed this early?"

Heath made another half laugh before he replied. There was a hint of trepidation as he spoke. "You wouldn't."

"I very well can, and I'm considering it. Now please, send the young miss home, before you regret today a great deal."

There was a long sigh from Heath as Ken made his threat. It seemed to Kira that this was not the first time that Ken had to fetch Heath in such a manner, and it looked unlikely to be the last.

"Very well," Heath retorted, mocking Ken's tone. "Very well then, sorry young miss, but I do believe you must be on your way. My keeper here sees it fit to hold my hand otherwise. I'm sure you know by now it's no fun that way." More soft murmurs as the woman spoke, a rustle of cloth as someone dressed, and then a young lady was passing Kira in the hall. Small and dark, the woman walked with her head up, a smile curving her lips. She paid Kira no attention as she passed, holding her slippers in her hands.

"Happy now?" Heath asked, a biting edge of sarcasm in his voice.

"Almost," and Ken sounded truly cheery. "You don't have to hide, Kira."

"I'm not hiding," she snapped, feeling offended that he thought her a coward. "I'm just not looking."

"Who's this?" Kira could almost hear Heath's eyebrows rise from the tone he adopted. "Did little Ken bring a girl with him? Well, come here then, let me see how well my boy did. I'm decent, I swear."

Well, the fact that he swore was better than a promise he could make. Kira knew better than to trust in a thief's promise. But then of course, what did Kira know? She'd let herself be dragged into Ken's little game, hadn't she?

Sighing, Kira decided things could not get much worse than they already were. She left her post outside the door and ventured in to stand a step away from Ken, and several more from the man who must be Heath.

Heath was not at all what Kira had expected from the King of Thieves. Not even in the slightest. The man sat on the edge of a narrow bed in the small room. The sunlight that poured in from the open window made him look like a ghostly silhouette. Looking at him, Kira thought he could very well be the dead risen again. His shoulders were broader than the rest of him, giving him a withered look. Heath was bare besides his trousers, and a faint outline of his ribs showed against his pale skin. His hair was a mess of ruddy brown waves that brushed his shoulders, making his hazel eyes look dark.

Scruffy was the word that came to mind when Kira looked at him.

Heath rose, and much to Kira's annoyance he gave her a similar inspection. He eyed her as one might scrutinize a horse they were considering to buy. Kira fought back her affront when Ken made a grumble of disapproval. Who was he to defend her?

"Don't look at her like that, Heath. She's not yours, I didn't bring her here for you."

Heath's eyes flicked to Ken, "She's going to be one of yours then, huh?"

"I belong to no one," Kira told them, crossing her arms in annoyance. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

Heath made a show of rocking back on his heels, "Oh good, this one's got a spine. Don't let her boss you around too much, Ken." The King of Thieves showed his teeth in a wolf's grin. His gaze was riveted on Kira, as if Ken didn't exist at all.

Ken sighed, "Kira's going to be helping us out a bit, so she's an equal, okay?"

"Ah, so she is mine after all," Heath's smile widened in an infuriating way.

"No," Ken retorted, and his brief reply suggested an end to the conversation. Heath, however, wouldn't be cowed.

"Really, Ken, you're going to teach her to do what you do, and you do what you do all in order to aid me." Aristocratically, Heath laid out his reasoning, taking on a stance of mock severity as explained his logic. "Therefore, she belongs to me, and so do you."

Ken looked as though he was losing his patience as he dealt with a witty little child. "Heath, I did not come here to bandy words with you, and while it's true that I may belong to you in some odd way that some might call loyalty, I still hold your dignity in my hands."

"Dignity. What an evil word, coming from a cunning little devil." Heath's tone was lighter, and with a wave of his hand he submitted to the battle of wits that fallen into play. "If you'll just give me a moment to get myself properly dressed." Heath gestured for Ken and Kira to leave.

Kira retreated, but Ken leaned on the door and shook his head, "I am not falling for that. You can put a shirt on with an audience."

Seeing Heath's appalled look at the suggestion, Kira decided that the battle was not yet over. Kira supposed she'd be witness to it all, considering that Ken was blocking the door. It was hard to say she was dismayed. It was truly interesting to see how the King of Thieves bickered with his right hand man.

"Would you really do that to the man whose dignity you strive so hard to protect?"

Like a parent rebuking a defiant child, Ken gestured towards a wrinkled tunic that hung over the bedpost. "Dress, and recall that just because I defend your dignity doesn't mean I'm not afraid to exploit it."

Rolling his eyes, Heath collected the discarded garment and pulled it on over his head. Light colored and loose hanging, it only seemed to make Heath's gaunt form more apparent.

"And ruin all your hard work?" There was a taunting smirk to Heath's voice as he spoke. Kira found it oddly impressive how Ken could hold his temper so well. Much like a good dog dealt with a curious child, Ken retained his calm air and refused to let Heath's tail tugging provoke him.

"You know Heath, I don't think I'd mind that much. I'm not afraid of hard work, and you seem to have eluded all the humility you should have learned as a boy. I think a lesson of it now would do you good." The blunt threat in Ken's voice only seemed to stretch Heath's grin wider. "Now please, if I want to deal with little children I'll find myself a willing woman who wants them."

Silently, Kira let her gaze flick from one man to the other. There seemed to be a tension between the two of them, an almost palpable challenge that rested in the balance. Kira half expected Heath to strike back with a witty retort, but he only asked for Ken to pass him his boots that were by the door. He pulled them on and slapped a worn belt around his waist.

Like a wave breaking on the beach a sort of peace between the two seemed to reassert itself. With an almost apologetic smile, Heath clipped a cloak around him and brushed past Ken to lead the way down stairs.

Kira looked to Ken as he let out a long pent up breath. He shook his head in a silent rebuke to himself before he followed after Heath.

"Lads, such dreadfully arrogant things."

* * *

Heath was swift as he moved through the streets, ducking into a dark side street to lead them through a maze of narrow crisscrossing paths. For a while it seemed as though they left the city behind, to slink through the lifeless and uninhabited back alleys. When they emerged onto a less crowded street Heath trotted up to a rickety looking verandah to a long established tavern.

Unlike the Dancing Dove had been, the taproom was bereft of any save the bartender himself. Old and portly, the man seemed to pay little attention to his guests as Heath headed for the stairs.

"Morning Def," Heath called, and the man only looked up to nod before he went back to polishing a glass with a torn cloth. Without hesitation Ken followed the Rogue up the steps, the wood creaking protest all the way. Kira came behind him, slower and no longer sure of herself.

The stairs led to a short hall and two doors, one of which Heath pushed past to flop down on a bed laden with disheveled red covers. The room was round in shape, an odd contrast to the square building. The ceiling was pitched a bit high, with the rafters hanging low over the room. Kira was sure if she reached her hands above her and jumped she could reach the sturdy beams. Five of them came together from the edges of the room to meet in the middle in a single well rounded circle.

Besides the bed and it's plush covers the remaining furnishings were simple but effective. A round table and chairs stood off to one side, clean sanded but unstained. The pale wood looked well used but remarkably clean. Small gouges in the surface showed where someone had carelessly carved away bits of wood with a rough knife. A massive rug sprawled across the floor, plain but homely. A rack filled with scrolls stood against one wall alongside a stout dresser covered in pots of ink and an old belt knife. Candles lit the room from various places, taking up much of the available surface space. A set of shelves cluttered with books and several decanters and glasses was almost tall enough to touch the beam it stood beneath. Kira counted two sets of shutters that kept the sun out around the wall of the room on opposite sides.

It was a humble abode, but it was welcoming nonetheless.

"Welcome to Ken's lonely little hideaway," Heath gestured to the room with a sweep of his hand. He sat on the bed, wry and idly amused. His gaze flicked to Ken appraisingly. "You've chosen well. She's a spy already."

Ken snorted, "You make it sound as if I recruit lackeys."

Shrugging one bony shoulder in reply, Heath rose and collected a bottle of brandy and glasses from a shelf. He settled lazily into a chair and poured enough for the three of them.

"I've never truly agreed with all the men you gather to your cause. They seem too few and far between."

With a sigh Ken nodded something of assent. "It's difficult to find good men. Having a lot of men does you no good if they can't do what you want them to." Ken gestured for Kira to take a seat before he did. He swirled his glass in his fingers as he gave Heath a rebuking look. "I was going to speak to you last night about Kira's terms, but you had better things to do, so we'll do this now."

"Terms? Since when did any of your…" Heath struggled to find a fitting word, and with a glace at Kira he scoffed. "Pets, I should call them. You set them out like hounds on the hunt."

"Don't be a fool," Ken remarked, "Hounds are too easily noticed and put down. They're more like my little ravens in the night. Sly and shrewd, always there but never truly significant."

Heath grunted his agreement as he sipped more brandy. Kira had yet to touch hers, and she highly doubted she would at all. She had never had a taste for wines and brandy.

Kira had stayed silent since they'd left the brothel, and ventured a quiet query. "I suppose I'll be one of them after this?"

Heath nodded, "On certain conditions, possibly. Why again are we speaking of terms?" The Rogue's gaze settled on Ken.

"Kira's not going to be paid in gold for her work. I'm going to teach her magic instead."

"On your own time?" Heath interjected.

"If I can manage it. If not you'll be seeing less of me."

Heath had no qualms about that, though he did frown a moment before he nodded for Ken to continue. "What else?"

"Kira stays at the castle," and here Heath leaned forward to rest his elbow on the table in interest. As if unnoticing, Ken went on. "and will need some sort of excuse for her to be away when she's needed here."

It was Kira's turn to object, "Why would I need an excuse?"

"What we do is not a public thing. Like I said before, what I do for Heath very few know of. We keep all suspicion off all of our thieves to be sure that no one does find out. It's best you gave your friends or anyone else who might look for you at the castle an unsuspicious reason for you to be way often."

It seemed to make sense to Kira, but she could think of no good reason to be constantly visiting the city.

"I'll have to think about that," she told Ken, and he shrugged in assent.

"It might not be needed, but it's a precaution that might be worth taking. The most important thing about you living in the castle is the letters though. We have others in the castle, and sometimes staying in touch with them can be tricky. Servants, cooks or grooms often have their own duties to attend to. It's not letters, so much as short coded messages. You wouldn't have to read any, you'd only have to collect them and bring them here."

A deep sense of foreboding had filled Kira as Ken explained his idea of the letters. She hadn't thought that he would have spies in the castle of all places. Why would he need spies or thieves there anyways?

As if Ken could read the dismay in Kira's eyes he smiled sheepishly, "I'm not asking you to stick a knife in your King's back. We don't have them there to keep an eye on the King. It's mostly the one's who know of the Rogue and take an avid but furtive interest in it."

Ken's words did little to settle the dread inside her. Only a promise she'd made to herself to keep her magic kept her from refusing the terms.

"I think I can do that," her voice was stronger than she felt.

"Good," Heath looked rather pleased with himself, "this is turning out quite well. I don't suppose Ken's told you what you'll do when you're in the city?"

Mutely, Kira shook her head.

"It's really simple," he said, "you just follow who he tells you to follow, and make sure they don't see you doing it. All you've got to do is tell Ken all they did that day."

"That's it?"

Ken nodded, "It's harder than he says, but only if you're conspicuous. If you can blend into a crowd well and remember precise details you'll be fine."

It can't be that hard, can it? Kira had to wonder if it was all some kind of trick. Just letters, letters and trailing after people she didn't know.

Of course, Kira only assumed she wouldn't know them.

* * *

Without much prompting Heath left. He stood, bade his new spy and his old friend good bye and was gone. Kira couldn't help but think of him as a dog who'd been thrown a bone. Heath took what he needed and fled. What made his swift departure all the more unsettling was the odd feeling that accompanied being alone with Ken. Kira sat, silent and unmoving at the table, her wary gaze on the thief's back.

"Well, I don't think we'll get much done today in the way of showing you around the city." Ken leaned against the window frame, looking out into the streets below.

Kira dared to take a few timid sips of her drink. It tasted of apricots and brandy and it washed away the dryness in Kira's throat. Quietly, Kira waited for Ken to go on. When he didn't she reluctantly found herself prompting him.

"Then I suppose I should be going?"

Ken looked up in surprise, "Oh no, you don't have to. The day isn't completely lost, we can still start working on your magic if you want to."

"Where would we start?"

A frown creased Ken's face, "That's a really good question…" He rubbed his chin, and Kira could hear the scratch of bristles beneath his palm. "What can you do with your magic so far?" He turned his gaze away from the window to look at Kira.

She shrugged. "Nothing. I accidentally used it once before, but since then it's been as if I don't have any magic at all." Kira didn't volunteer to elaborate on her last show of magic. She'd rather not recall that particular incident.

"I guess that makes it easier, we could just start straight from the basics." The thief moved away from the window with a sigh. He ruffled his own hair and offered a halfhearted smile. "I've never taught someone how to use the Gift before," he admitted.

"No one has ever tried to teach me," Kira replied in turn. "It seems we're both going to go into this stumbling in the dark."

Ken nodded what might have been grudging assent. He sat across from Kira at the table and put his hands palm up on the table. "Do this," he told Kira.

Obediently Kira laid her hands on the rough wood like Ken's. For a moment he did nothing but stare, and perhaps ponder something to himself. Then without warning little green vines slithered across his hands, creeping along his palms and wrapping around his fingers. Little sparks of brightness lit in the fraying threads of the cool magic as they twined over his skin.

"My Da taught me this," Ken told her quietly, "He said all you have to do is let the magic in you come forth, and it will. I suppose there's something of a challenge to it, to keeping it this gentle." Ken closed his hands, and the magic dissipated into nothingness.

Daunted, Kira looked up to find him eyeing her expectantly. "Try it," he told her when she couldn't find the words to reply. "Just focus on letting a little bit of it forth."

Kira cleared her mind and took a deep breath. She looked at her hands, and focused for a long moment on simply summoning the magic as Ken had told her to. In a way she felt as if she searched inside herself. What she looked for evaded her, hiding where she couldn't find it.

Several times Ken stopped Kira in her meditation and bade her to do something differently, to try something else. Time and time again Kira did as he told her, and nothing happened. There was no creeping tendrils of magic, no twitch of sudden light at the tips of her fingers.

They took a short break for a meal that Ken scavenged from downstairs. It was little more than several fresh rolls of bread and cheese to go with it, but it was filling enough. The meal seemed to smother the growing frustration, and quietly they resumed the lessons. Eventually, hunger began to tug again at Kira's belly.

"I should go," Kira said as she rose from her place. She looked at the darkened window and felt sudden dread at how long she'd been away. Surely that much time hadn't passed?

"I'll walk you there," Ken told her as he fetched his cloaked. He didn't leave it open for her to decline, and Kira didn't much feel like debating anything. They'd both been frustrated by the lack of success and the failed attempts, but all too soon that feeling had fled in Kira to leave behind nothing but disappointment.

The walk back to the castle was dreadful. Before they were even a quarter of the way there the sky rumbled and the clouds spilled a heavy shower of cold water down on them. With a miserable silence hanging between the two they made their way up the street.

"Look, we can try again tomorrow," Ken promised when they stood at the gates. He had to lean close to Kira to be sure she heard the words. "I didn't exactly catch on quick when it came to being taught either, and I'm not exactly what you'd call an experienced teacher."

"I don't blame you," she told him, and found that she didn't. Who did she blame? The King came to mind, as well as Numair who refused to teach her. It was a painful slight, made all the worse knowing that it came from a friend.

"Neither do I," he agreed. "But I'm going to teach you, and if I can't, I'll find someone who can. Same time tomorrow?"

Kira nodded, "Same time."

"Good night, Kira."

"Night Ken."

Kira watched Ken turn and head off into the night, water streaming from his cloak. He faded into the night, the darkness sweeping in to surround him. With a shiver Kira turned and headed into the warmth of the castle, wondering dimly if learning to control her magic was worth it at all.

* * *

**That's it for Chapter 7. Thoughts? Considerations? Guesses at what will happen next? =)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

* * *

The Lioness had many favorite pastimes, one of which included roaming the halls of the castle that had been home to her as a page and squire. Sword clapping against her thigh in time with her step, Alanna found that she was not only walking the corridors of the castle but revisiting her past with every step

The King's Champion smiled to herself, recalling what it had been like to be a knight in training. It hadn't always been easy, she acknowledged, eyeing a large tapestry she surmised was a new addition to the slate grey walls. There had always been that extra burden of concealing her gender, the difference and disadvantage of being a girl in a boy's world. She'd had to work twice as hard to get just as far, but it had all paid off in the end hadn't it?

And then of course she could not forget those who had stood squarely in her way. Earning her knighthood had been plagued by the threat of the Chamber of Ordeal, the plotting hand of Roger of Conte, and so many more.

Alanna's feet brought her to the heavy door of the King's office of their own accord. She paused before the solid barricade, thinking of all the good things.

There was the triumphant feeling that came when she bested a foe or overcame a challenge, standing up to bullies, winning her first duel. She remembered the trips into the city to see George, the good times she'd had with him. Being Jon's squire was something else entirely, a pastime that Alanna had enjoyed but hadn't wished for in a long time.

_And why would you? _She asked herself. Alanna had a husband she could never have dreamed of and kids of their own. She loved George, and was more than content in his arms. She was happy, something the lady knight wasn't sure she could have been with Jon, despite the fact that she had loved him.

_And you still do._

As a good friend, there was no doubt. Alanna was sure that she could always put her trust in her King, and knew that he would always make the right choice. They had their differences, but they'd always worked things out in the end.

As Alanna knocked on the door she found that she couldn't imagine that ever changing.

It might have been that very thought that jinxed it.

* * *

"This is it?"

"This is what?"

"All I have to do?"

Kendel Borough, long time thief and good friend of the reigning Rogue, sighed through clenched teeth.

"Yes, yes, for the last time," he forced the words out, giving Kira a withering look.

The two stood at the corner of the Baker's Square, watching a man haggle with a vendor across the street.

Unperturbed by Ken's irked tone, Kira gestured vaguely at their target. "He's not going to do anything… Bad, is he?"

"Oh no, of course not. He's just going to pay for his breakfast go for a lovely stroll, slip into a dark alley, and slit the throat of a stranger."

Her jaw dropped in astonishment, encouraging the thief to take up a pained expression.

"I'm kidding. How many times are we going to run through this?"

"I just don't feel comfortable—"

"Kira." Ken stopped her, mouth twisted in a half scowl. "Did you honestly think this was going to be something you would revel in? I've dressed it up as much as possible, but there's no getting around the fact that this is not easy work. If it were I wouldn't have trouble finding men for this."

"Why me?"

"Why not you? You're as good a candidate for this as anyone else on this street. You're a shot in the dark, a chance I'm taking. Not everyone is good at this, but there's only one way to find out if someone has what it takes or not. You're watchful, a little potential if it helps."

"Ken—"

"No, no more questions. It's time _you_ did some listening for a change. You've been a bottomless well of question and complaint all morning."

"But—"

"Shush. Not another word."

Clamping her jaw, Kira tried not to squirm beneath the firm look Ken had fixed her with. The woman had been under the impression that everyday would be like the first, with her trailing in Ken's wake as he chased after one rogue or another. It had been a foolish hope, something she'd realized just as the day had begun.

They met at the same place as the previous morning, with Ken arriving shortly after Kira settled down to wait for him beneath the willow tree. Having spent the night talking herself around about the work at hand Kira had gained a sense of confidence, a self satisfied air that left her looking forward to another day with Ken.

The notion was yet another silly one for her put faith in. The thief had come through the alley empty handed and eyes awhirl with the dregs of an argument. They traded brief greetings, those of which were accentuated with irritated fidgeting on Ken's part.

Clearly, the thief was not in the best of moods, something that only got more apparent as the morning went on.

"No breakfast?" Kira wondered aloud as she followed him into the streets, trotting to keep up with his quick strides.

"What's wrong, running out of food in camp Royal?"

It was a comment that did something rarely accomplished—it shut Kira up. She snapped her jaw closed and kept quiet, irked at his off handed remark. They'd gone straight to work from there, with Ken skirting around corners and ducking through alleys with practiced ease. He'd led her to the mouth of a narrow defile between two buildings at the edge of the Baker's Square. After flitting off for a moment and biding Kira to wait, Ken returned with breakfast and offered a roll of cinnamon to his would-be Raven.

He'd sighed and murmured apologetically, "Today is not my day."

It was all he said before the rogue pointed out their target and they began their watch.

"His name is Artulo Reed. That's R-E-E-D, and all I'm going to tell you. You'll do the rest. We need to know where he's from, what he's doing here, and all his habits. What does he do every morning? When does he retire for the night? How much sugar does he put in his tea?"

"How am I supposed to find all that out?" Kira asked between bites of pastry.

"Consider this a test of your capability. How _would_ you find all that out?"

Kira paused, thinking. Both thief and accomplice kept their gazes trained on their charge who stood on the far side of the street.

"Follow him?" the woman ventured.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" Ken's tone was measured, the practiced tone of a teacher.

"Follow him."

"All the time?"

"I thought that's what we were doing," Kira protested with a frown. Ken focused on the cinnamon roll in his hand, shaking his head at it.

"Training. How it drives me to sweets…" The thief took a bite of his breakfast and sighed. He let a moment of silence pass before he spoke again. "The thing about being a good…" Ken searched for a word, "Raven, is learning to be creative when your target is being difficult. You have to know what they're up to, but they can't catch you following them. Once someone recognizes your face, you're worthless. Word will get around, and every time someone sees you after that you're following them. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Slowly, Kira nodded. "I'm still not quite sure how I'm supposed to do this."

"Anyway you can. That's the creative aspect. You're target walks into a bar and you can't follow him without being seen. How do you keep tabs?"

"Wait for him to come out," the woman said hesitantly.

"How do you know what he did while he was in there?"

Kira shook her head, drawing a blank. Following someone was turning out to be a little harder than she had expected.

"You develop contacts. Strike a deal with the bartender or waitress. They know the locals from the strangers, and can tell you what you need to know about one of their customers. Does it come without a price? Never. Contacts always want something in return, and you have to be able to pick the good from the bad. A bad contact won't have any problem feeding you lies if they're paid for it."

Wide eyed, Kira stared at the thief. She let his words sink in, wondering at the kinds of trouble bad contacts could get their clients into.

"So we'll use your... Contacts, to follow Mr. Reed?"

"Even better. You'll make your own, starting today. We'll keep our distance and watch Reed to see where he goes. Anyplace he goes is a place you need a contact for. Got all that?"

"Yes, just one question."

Ken looked at Kira expectantly, not quite sure whether or not he wanted to hear what she was about to ask. Her words weren't the veiled complain he'd been expecting.

"Why isn't today your day?"

The thief's gaze lost the irritable edge, one eyebrow quirking. "Just make sure you choose your contacts well."

* * *

**First update in a long time. Short chapter, mostly talking. =) Reviews, as always, are appreciated.**


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